Chapter 30
Thirty
With Sacred Mother gone, I expected the dour presence in the palace to lift, but it remained the same.
The dancers skirted away from me, kept their heads down, moving as though they were walking on hot coals.
Their dance was slow, languid, and my fears turned real.
The darkness that plagued me at night was becoming my reality.
The devil Verena had released was haunting the palace, making its presence known even though I didn’t see it.
I felt it. It lurked; there was a pressure to the air, similar to the way Sacred Mother had made it feel, as though it hurt my bones to lift my limbs and dance.
Up here, I grieved and was helpless. Down there in the Hollow Kingdom with Airen, I was alive and certain.
Slowly but surely, the Hollow Ones made their presence known, and the whispers in the city drifted up to the palace.
Those strange creatures were protecting the city, fighting the demons, saving the people.
The rift was open, and even though we lived in fear, we also lived in hope.
That was more powerful than anything else.
Verena always went deadly still when she listened to those whispers, as though one wrong expression might give her away. The dancers spoke in the pools, the chatter filled the air, and ever so slowly, the pressure in the palace lifted, and hope bled out.
Ten days before the full moon, I was finally able to broach a request at practice, inviting the dancing to learn something new.
I told them how we always danced separately, but I would not be the Lead Dancer for much longer, and this time, during the full moon, I wanted to invite them to join me when I finished, and we could dance together, as it always should have been.
I arrived at practice early, fresh from the pools, my muscles warm as I stretched.
One by one the dancers filtered in, moving around the floor, stretching, legs lifted, arms moving, warming up before we danced.
I glanced around for Verena, but she hadn’t appeared yet.
So, taking a deep breath, I moved to the front of the room and cleared my throat.
“Rift Dancers.” They faced me, a series of surprise, suspense, and other looks on their faces.
“I know what you’re thinking,” I went on.
My hands shook so I clasped them together.
“There have been rumors about my odd behavior, my disappearances, and questions about my sanity. I know I’ve been blamed for some of the deaths, and whether you believe me or not, I am innocent.
Sacred Mother was killed by demons, as were the others.
And although it may be difficult to believe, I know it’s time for me to resign.
I’ve been Lead Dancer for five years, and for the longest time, it was all I thought about, all that I dreamed about. But now I know there is more.
“You saw what happened the last full moon, the rift opened wide, and we were attacked. But great beings came to our aid, as they do now, all across the city, protecting us from demons. I would give one last dance to lock the demons away and keep these beings, the Hollow Ones, as our protectors. For this dance, I want to do something different. All along I’ve been alone, the first to dance, and then I’ve left.
But that’s not right. I will open, but I invite you all to dance with me, to be part of the ceremony, the ritual.
I want you to feel the magic I feel, the power dancing around us, and know we are the ones to bring the demons to their knees.
Will you dance this one last dance with me? ”
Zahiya stepped forward first, studying me. She’d arrived after Verena and me, and while she moved, she lacked a gracefulness that never allowed her to progress further. “What are the steps to this dance?”
Ten days. I reminded myself. So little time; I had to keep it simple. I’d never taught a dance, yet I’d learned, so I stood at the center of the room and spread my arms. “This is the first pose,” I began.
Zahiya mirrored me. I moved, and she copied while the other dancers stared.
Then another one joined. Then another. And another.
One by one, we moved through the dance, finding the steps, our bodies weaving back and forth.
I felt a lightness in the air, a buoyancy, as though I could fly.
We twirled and leaped, and even the soreness in my shoulder faded to the background as we moved.
Emotion welled deep within me, and it was only when we finished, with the dancers gathered around me, eager to begin again, that I saw Verena standing in the doorway.
Her arms were crossed, and she watched us with an expression impossible to read. But I knew what it looked like, what she might think. That I had gone behind her back to win over the dancers, that I was trying to turn them against her and become the next Rift Mother as was expected.
They would look to me now as their leader.
I opened my mouth to explain, but she waved her hand, mouthing the words, Keep dancing.
So, I lifted my arms and took the first pose again, and the dancers followed me.
Again and again and again, but I was distracted, my heart pounding, and I wondered what Verena would do.
How she would retaliate. I wanted to believe that she needed me to dance, but I’d always been the one in her way.
I was still here, and while I might not be Rift Mother, I was still in her way, frustrating her purpose.
After practice, I was free to walk the halls, to go to and from the pools with the Veiled Wardens monitoring me.
Verena had disappeared, so I made my way up to Rift Mother’s chambers.
It felt odd to think of them as Verena’s chambers now.
I followed the winding staircase, thinking of the scroll I’d found, the destroyed room, as though someone were searching for something, but they hadn’t found it.
Yet. What would Rift Mother have that Verena needed?
Unless…the dark thought whispered around me.
The door was locked, but that was to be expected.
I picked it quickly just the way Airen had shown me.
Inside, the room had almost been redone.
It was bare and neat. The bed was made, the blankets primly folded.
The thick carpets had been replaced, and briefly I wondered if Sacred Mother had taken this room and made it her own.
My memory of the time with Sacred Mother was too hazy to recall her habits, or what she’d done.
I moved to the washroom and walked around the tub, trying to trip the same stone trap I’d tripped before.
There. It came open. My heart thumped as I slid the stone back and reached inside for the box. The same one I’d taken the scroll out of, the one with my family tree. All the Lead Dancers of my bloodline.
My mouth went dry as I opened it, the one I’d emptied myself. Inside was a book, which meant someone else had come back afterward, someone else knew about this hiding place.
The book wasn’t as big as I thought it would be, but it was bound with old leather, a heated scent rising from it, of old wood and burned parchment.
There was a symbol on the front, one that I recognized.
A full moon sprouting thorns, the symbol that had appeared, written in blood at every death.
My fingers trembled as I opened the book, and there were spells on how to curse someone and steal their souls, arcane symbols, and drawings of dark rituals.
There were broken bones and blood, people being held down and forced to watch while others were tortured, skewered.
I closed the book, feeling dirty, wrong, as though I’d taken the time to summon the devil myself.
My family had died in a single night, torn apart while I held the leg of a table.
We’d always said it was demons, but perhaps the demons had never come on their own.
Perhaps there had been someone like me, wanting something so badly, a purpose, a place, a truth, and paying for it with other people’s blood. Perhaps we’d opened the door ourselves.
A shadow moved in the room, and my body went numb as cold fear crept down my back, threatening to choke me.
The shadow moved to the doorway, but there was nowhere to hide. I shut the box, moving the trap door back, and—
“Gazelle?”
I looked up and relief filled me. “Oh, Betta. You frightened me.”
She studied me. “What are you doing here?”
I stood, holding the book with both hands. “I figured it out. I know who’s behind all of the murders.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Gazelle, are you having another episode?”
“No.” I held up the book. “Do you recognize this book? This symbol? It’s a spellbook.
A tome that only a witch would use for dark magic, to summon not a demon but something higher, more powerful.
A devil. And the person who used this book and summoned the devil made a bargain with it, which led to death. ”
She looked at the book, and she looked at me. “Then why do you have it? Why are you in my chambers? Did you come to finish what you started? Are you going to send the demons after all of us?”
“It wasn’t me.” My voice cracked. She didn’t believe me; it was written all over her face. “It was Verena.”
Betta blew out her breath. “Verena,” she said slowly.
She pressed her palms together, her gaze going distant as she looked away.
When she faced me again, her expression had changed, as though she’d come to a realization.
“Gazelle.” Her tone was sharp. “That’s enough.
Don’t do this. Not after everything you’ve endured. Especially not after what you’ve done.”
My shoulders sagged, and I pressed my lips together. I may have won with the dancers, but not with Betta, not with the Vestals or the Wardens. They’d seen only what they wanted to see. My reputation was still tarnished. I was still in trouble.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’ll go now.”
Betta caught my arm as I attempted to pass.
“Gazelle, I’m trying to help you too. I know you’ve gone through something rough, and for some reason, your past came back to you.
You were like this when you first came to the palace, making up stories, disappearing for long stretches of time.
You’ve always had a wild imagination, vivid and beautiful, but it’s kept you from seeing the truth. ”
I studied her, trying to recall. “What truth? What are you trying to tell me?”
“It’s okay to be broken, but you are safe here.
The dance you do is important. Just because you’re moving away from being Lead Dancer doesn’t mean that you won’t always have a place here.
Change is frightening, but you don’t have to act out or make up stories for attention.
You don’t have to turn us against each other for your own amusement. ”
I reeled back as though she’d slapped me. “Is that what you think is happening here? That I’m acting out because I’m afraid?”
“I’ve seen it before,” said Betta. “It happens to every Lead Dancer. Time comes to an end, but don’t let it end like this; don’t dismiss everything you’ve given and sacrificed.”
My words were bitter when I spoke. “I think it’s too late for that.”
Tucking the book into the folds of my dress, I turned away and walked out of the room.
Part of me wanted to run, part of me wanted to sink down and weep.
But it wasn’t until I was almost back to my room that the question poked at me.
What was Betta doing in Rift Mother’s chambers? Why had she called them hers?